


Caught

by rainbowtaurus



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Awkward First Times, Awkward Flirting, Ben Solo is a nerd, Consent Issues, Dyad drama, Enemies to Lovers, Enthusiastic Consent, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fix-It-Fic, Future Pregnancy, Love, Mortis (Star Wars), Movie: Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker, Mutual Pining, Power Dynamics, Pregnancy in the epilogue, Redemption, Restoring balance, Rey Nobody, Secret Relationship, Sith Alchemy, Sith Horrors, Sith Sorcery, Slow Burn, That's Not How The Force Works, The Dark Side of the Force, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Uneasy Allies, Virgin Kylo Ren, Virgin Rey (Star Wars), going on a horny adventure, stop trolling the skywalker family Palpatine
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:48:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22098190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainbowtaurus/pseuds/rainbowtaurus
Summary: Kylo makes it back to his Flagship in time to catch Rey in his quarters.He’s glad he did, because he had a curious vision when he ripped the Aki-Aki fertility necklace from her neck.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo
Comments: 108
Kudos: 371





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Kylo realizes Rey is inside his quarters. He catches her and uses a force-suppressant binder to do it (yeah I know, indulge me). 
> 
> This is my fix-it-fic for tros.  
> It's cathartic and something positive for me to write between updates for my dark reylo fic :) 
> 
> -eventually explicit  
> -non consensual touching in this chapter. afterwards eventual enthusiastic consent.  
> Ty for reading feedback always appreciated.
> 
> January 20, 2021 update: this fic is on temporary hiatus and will resume after I finish my darkfic. :) thanks for your patience and I hope you enjoy the first 3 chapters. Or, check in later! Have a nice day 😊

Kylo can’t stop examining the gorgeous creature he has hunted and captured. He’s missed her deeply. 

Their lightsabers lie on the shining floor of his personal quarters. She was rash and hot-headed to battle him through the Force, and Vader’s helmet still rests on the ground. He drove her to the point of exhaustion during their duel: both physically and emotionally. 

Rey’s chest heaves from exertion as he manhandles her across the room and over to his desk. She has bested him countless times in the past, and now he has finally gained the upper hand. He wants to enjoy this. 

Kylo appraises the familiar high sweep of her cheekbones, the contours of her face, the tilt of those delicate lips, and her wide, defiant eyes locking with his through thick eyelashes. He slowly, almost reluctantly, turns her around.

Kylo braces one hand on her shoulder while the other rests on her hip. He hears her breath quicken in short, nervous gasps as he slowly bends her over his desk. Rey struggles lightly underneath him and finds it useless. With the Force-suppressant cuff locked around her ankle, he holds her down effortlessly. It is a cruel tool: she cannot wield her power, yet he is still able to sense her connection to him through the Force.

Though he will never admit it, Kylo considers it cowardly way to gain an advantage over her. But he is long past playing fair. He uses one knee to nudge her legs apart, and she glances at him from over her shoulder. Kylo sees fear reflected in the shine of her eyes. 

“I’m searching you for additional weapons,” he explains.

“Liar,” she spits. 

“No,” Kylo’s hands find their way to her hips, and he smooths them down her thighs, her calves. He can’t help but tremble at being this close to her, feeling the warmth of her body heat under his palms. His gaze lingers for a moment as he takes in the graceful curve of her waist and hips. He thinks of the fertility necklace he tore from her neck. 

He wants to see more. Whatever Kylo wants, he could take it. With Rey’s Force abilities tethered, he could easily overpower her. He _is_ overpowering her. 

But how could he? How could he ever harm _his_ Rey? Bile rises in his throat at the thought and he banishes it. 

“I’ve never lied to you, Rey.” 

“Stop touching me,” she hisses as he unbuckles her belt and throws it across the room. He unties the long fabric that crosses her chest, letting it fall to the floor. Kylo fingers the hem of her shirt, but holds back from caressing her bare skin. One large hand rests on her abdomen, and he finds no weapons on her person. She is barefoot and wears only her white leggings and undershirt now.

“You have no right to touch me like this,” she says through clenched teeth.

“Would you rather a Stormtrooper search you? Or Hux?” 

As if that was even an option. Absolutely no one gets to lay a hand on her except for him. And yet, Rey’s brazen contempt impresses him. In spite of her fear she does not cower before him.

Oh a whim, Kylo runs his fingers through her scalp and undoes each bun. Her hair falls, pooling well past her shoulders. She smells of sweat and war. 

He likes it. 

Kylo calls on the Force and binders fly into his hand. He wordlessly pulls her wrists behind her back and snaps the cuffs into place.

“I’d prefer you spend the night in my quarters instead of a cell, Rey.” 

“I’ll take the cell,” Rey responds with cold conviction. 

Kylo yanks the binders and turns her around to face him. Her face is wet from hot tears streaming down her cheeks, one racing to meet the other before diving off the end of her chin. Kylo realizes she is working hard to repress sobs.

Sobbing? She has endured worse than this. He would never - 

It hits him, and Kylo lifts a gloved finger to her cheek, wiping away her tears.

“I would never take you against your will. That is what you are afraid of, isn’t it?” 

Kylo knows Rey. He knows her mind better than anyone. She is a girl who can’t remember what a soft touch feels like beyond the hug of a friend - or the tentative, hopeful connection of fingertips brushing across the galaxy.

“No? Isn’t that _exactly_ what you’re doing? Holding me against my will?” She tilts her chin up with stubborn resolve.

A nervous undercurrent runs through Kylo and he struggles to conceal it. Does she truly not know how important she is to him?

“Rey, I would like to - ”

 _Kiss you_ , Kylo wants to say. The words die in his throat. It is not the right time to ask that of her, not when he is treating her like this. Like an enemy instead of the lover. But what option does she leave him? He needs her to _listen._

And truth be told, he can’t stomach another rejection.

“You’d like to _what_?” Rey twists, trying to gain a sliver of independence.

“I would like to offer you a choice,” Kylo keeps his face closed, his desire hidden behind his eyes, “Stay with me and I will release your - friends.”

The traitors. Dameron. FN-2187. Chewbacca. 

“Stay with me, Rey, and let me guide you. There are things you don’t know. There are forces at work in the galaxy that threaten the First Order and the Resistance.”

Kylo catches the faint flicker of confusion in her eyes - or is it suspicion?

“Some choice. And if I refuse?”

The question is a dare. It’s a challenge. Kylo chooses his words carefully.

“You won’t see them again.”

It’s scary to want someone this much. To _need_ someone this much. The silent muscles work in his jaw as he waits for her answer, tensing and relaxing.

“I don’t negotiate with tyrants. Besides,” Rey holds his gaze, “You could never hurt Chewie. Not after what killing your father did to you, Ben.”

_Ben._

Using his birth name unnerves Kylo. She touches on a festering wound that has not, and might not ever heal. In retaliation, Kylo lifts Rey and hoists her over his shoulder. She gasps in outrage, but he ignores it. 

“I’ll make it simple then,” Kylo says as he marches up the stark-white steps to his bed. He gently sets her onto the mattress and stares down at her. He is stunned into silence for a moment as he surveys the view in front of him.

Rey is in his _bed_. She is cuffed, powerless, and in his bed. 

Focus. Kylo wills himself to focus. He cannot appear weak. He braces an arm on either side of her, his fists dipping into the mattress. Rey leans back as far as she can, loathing the submissive position he has put her in. 

“You will join forces with me," Kylo speaks quietly, "You will come to understand why you have no choice in that particular matter."

With great effort, Kylo pulls back. He pushes a button embedded in the wall, and a door slides shut, sealing her inside. Kylo exhales a long, shaky breath. He needs to release the traitors. He needs to soften Rey’s regard towards him. He hopes she will _warm_ to him sooner rather than later. Because right now, in the stillness of his quarters, all he hears is her soft, vulnerable crying behind closed doors.

Kylo closes his eyes. He nearly breaks the facade of Kylo Ren and goes back to her; he wants to hold her, comfort her. 

All in good time.

His eyes open, and Kylo makes his way to the bridge. 

  
  



	2. Visions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hi :) thank you for the feedback on my little fix-it-fic.  
> I’m a huge nerd for all things Sith and the mythology of Star Wars. I’ll be referencing the Book of Sith and other Sith-y canon/legends texts for this story. I’m also using the visual directories for info (I didn’t know the KOR had a craft called the Night Buzzard).
> 
> ____________

Kylo Ren stands in a private room adjacent to the command center. He gazes through the one-way window as General Hux paces from one end of the bridge to the other, expertly overseeing the fleet personnel as they prepare to launch into hyperspace to enter the Esstran sector. Kylo swallows thickly, not wanting to imagine Rey’s reaction when she finds out how far he is taking her from the Resistance. From the people she considers her family. 

Kylo turns away, his expression is somber, his eyes downcast. Gone is the fierce aggression, the unhinged behavior, the hot temper. Here, now, he is a man with too much on his mind and without the energy to hide his weariness.

In front of him the fertility husk necklace from Pasanna rests on a tall narrow stand. The beads and effigies have been painstakingly rethreaded to restore the necklace to its original state - the condition it was in before he snatched it from Rey’s chest.

“Tell me again, about the Aki-Aki,” Kylo says, his back turned to the only other person in the room: Officer Kandia. In response to his order Officer Kandia promptly marches to his side, her hands clasped neatly behind her back.

“For the last few decades the Aki-Aki clans have lived in harmony. The majority of clans are matriarchal and they reject most current technology. They find their indigenous traditions preferable,” Kandia’s tone indicates her disapproval of the Aki-Aki’s cultural philosophy. She continues. 

“The children are raised by communities, by groups of elders known as guardians. Ancestral worship, family, and fertility are important themes in their ideology. It is quite primitive, Supreme Leader.” 

“Are they known for being Force sensitive?” Kylo does not look up as he speaks. 

“Not particularly. Statistically they do not have an overabundance of Force users. However, they do have shamans, seers, and mystics. The shamans conduct ceremonies that are meant to connect with the spirits of their ancestors. Some of them claim to have visions of the past and future.”

“The Force is not shamanism or ceremonial magic,” Kylo idly waves her words away, irritated by his insubordinates ongoing ignorance regarding the Force. He asks the real question that has been on his mind. 

“Why would the scavenger be singled out and gifted such an item? Why _her_?”

“The Aki-Aki have a reputation for welcoming strangers. The scavenger appears to be of child bearing age, it may have been given to her for that reason alone. To celebrate the new life she will bring into the galaxy someday. Or rather, the life that she _might_ have brought into the galaxy,” Kandia quickly amends her sentence. She closes her eyes for a moment, throat bobbing nervously as she swallows.

Kylo knows he is expected to execute Rey. The flagship is buzzing with talk of her arrival, of how foolish she was to enter his personal quarters. The First Order assumes his relentless pursuit to capture Rey has been to avenge Snoke’s death.

How _wrong_ they are.

He senses Kandia relax when he does not reprimand her for speaking as though Rey will live, and she motions towards the necklace. 

“May I?”

Kylo nods, granting her permission. She delicately lifts the necklace from the platform and turns it over between her gloved fingers.

“The beads are hand dyed with powder made from a plant species that are near extinct on Pasanna. Fertility necklaces are usually red or pink, the orange color is an outlier,” she elaborates, her voice curious. 

“Why is the color significant?” Kylo asks, his tone sharp and demanding.

Kandia is a competent intelligence officer, no doubt about that, but it is her analytic skills that set her apart. She has been relentless in her assistance to help Kylo obtain Rey, and she unloads everything that she has learned.

“According to the Aki-Aki orange rejuvenates the spirit, especially in times of grief. It embodies compassion, balance, and warmth. An optimistic color bestowed on those they believe to have bright spirits.”

“I see,” Kylo responds, wondering if the Aki-Aki who singled out Rey was indeed Force sensitive. Everything about the necklace seems too specific to be a coincidence, and he wishes the alien that had chosen Rey could be interrogated. 

That opportunity has long passed. 

Kylo slowly turns to Kandia and senses her heart thud against her ribcage. His dark, dangerous gaze sets her on edge.

“Have two full meals sent to my quarters within the hour.” 

“Yes, Supreme Leader,” Kandia says, bowing her head in acknowledgement. It is an order outside the realm of her normal duties, but she does not question it. The officer turns on her heel to leave, and Kylo Ren hears the door shut. 

Finally, he is alone. A rare occurrence these days. 

He tosses a glance at the chrono and knows it is only a matter of time before the Force suppressant binder will need to be recharged. As incredible as the suppressant technology is, it does have limitations.

Kylo reaches out through the Force to sense Rey’s presence. She is inextricably linked to him, and the suppressant cannot completely numb their bond. But it is fractured, and unexpectedly painful. Like a wound not properly cauterized. Kylo shudders to think what might happen if their bond was severed - if such a thing is even possible. He can’t imagine the horror, the agonizing pain.

The Flagship yields into a subtle lurch, a sign familiar that they have left hyperspace, and Kylo shakes his head. They have entered the Esstran sector and Hux has standing orders to send coordinates to the _Night Buzzard_. The Buzzard is helmed by his dark Knights, and their sole purpose has been to track and hunt the scavenger. Their approach to tracking her has been predatory, and Kylo senses their perverse interest in Rey. Interest in her power, in all the ways they want to force her into demonstrating her abilities before killing her. 

In their minds they have fabricated hundreds of intricate, torturous deaths for the scavenger. Kylo pretends to be pleased. 

What he needs now is a viable reason for extending her life while she is in his care. He needs to protect her, and he is going to have a hell of a time doing it if she refuses to cooperate. 

Kylo reaches for his mask and readies to leave, but his stare lingers on the necklace. 

Anger swells in him as he remembers the startling vision that came to him the first time he touched it. The Force resides in all things, even objects, and he aches to know if Rey saw the same possible future he did.

He begins to peel off a glove and pauses. His hand was not bare when he first came into contact with the necklace. He leaves it on.

Kylo cautiously raises one arm, his hand quivering as it hovers above the orange beads. He suddenly draws his hand back, shaking it out aggressively to regain some control. He slowly inhales and before he can change his mind he grasps the necklace. 

Just like before, Kylo begins to feel himself disappearing from the concrete world. The outlines of the room become hazy, and the podium the necklace rests on dissolves into nothing. His entire sense of self, his orientation, his awareness of gravity, all vanish. Kylo’s breath stills in his throat as the fantasy - or is it a nightmare - plays out. 

_A hearty wail pierces his eardrums, and Kylo looks down._

_He cradles a male infant in his arms, and the baby calms as Kylo tenderly sways him back and forth. The baby has a crown of black hair, thick and soft; his cheeks red and healthy, his hazel eyes open, staring directly at his father. He is absolutely perfect, and Kylo gazes down at his son with protectiveness in his eyes. He traces a finger along his son’s tiny nose, he examines the miniature fingers._

_His son feels like balance. Like peace._

_Before he can lose himself in the miracle of his child, Kylo glances up, his eyes desperately searching for Rey._

_There she is._

_She looks at him, at both of them, with love and affection. Her cheeks are flushed and tendrils of hair stick to her sweaty face. She is exhausted, but her eyes are bright with joy. She looks so beautiful, so happy, that Kylo blinks back tears. She has given him everything he could ever want, and in that moment he knows that nothing could be more sacred than the life he has created with Rey. He leans down to cup her cheek, whispering_ _words of love as he kisses her eyes, her cheeks, her nose, her mouth -_

_A terrible sound disrupts the moment. Their son lets out a shrill, blood curdling wail. It is not the typical cry of a newborn, it is painful and afraid. The baby is inconsolable, his face turning bright red, tears rolling in fat droplets down his cheeks. He twists, trying to seek some comfort in his father’s arms, but nothing helps. Rey’s expression contorts into one of panic and Kylo passes their son into her embrace, but the baby only cries harder._

_“Ben?” Rey’s accent grows thick under duress, “Do you sense it? What is this?”_

_White-hot fury boils in Kylo’s veins, because he knows what this is. He hears the echo of the decaying voice slithering inside his son’s mind. The voice that carries the weight of decades of terror, violence, and a gnawing hunger for power. It is a voice he knows intimately, for it claims to be the one he’s heard his entire life._

_Kylo snarls in the back of his throat and whips around in wild circles, seeking out the owner of the voice. The black cloaked, pale, rotting monster claiming to be Palpatine. He’s come for the next generation, for Kylo’s own flesh and blood. A silent scream rips through him, nearly bringing Kylo to his knees. He thought he had slain that snake, he thought he had conquered his tormentor._

_“Ben,” Rey cries, snuggling the baby close to her chest, “how can we help him?”_

_The last sound he hears is cold, mocking laughter._

Kylo jolts back to the present as his vision fades. Nausea floods his system, and he licks his dry lips.

As it did last time, the vision leaves him with more questions than answers. He unfurls his first, the one wrapped around the necklace, and finds his glove embedded with shards of broken husk and orange powder. In his shock and outrage he has crushed it.

It’s fine. He has seen enough. As he dusts his off his glove, Kylo ponders.

In what future does his tormentor exist while he unites with Rey? In what _impossible_ realm does he come back home - does he have a family with Rey as Ben? The potential of that man returning, _Ben_ , was extinguished the moment he drove a saber through his father’s chest. Redemption is beyond him now, such transgressions are not worthy of forgiveness. 

Kylo violently shelves the memory to the deepest recesses of his mind. He tries to focus. 

Visions change and the future is uncertain. What he has seen may never come to pass. But if there _is_ a possibility that he has a future with Rey, he will fight for it. He will fight for their son, should they have one. _Those_ pieces of the vision are the ones he will cherish and hold onto.

As things currently stand between them, telling Rey a future exists where she bears his child is a swift way to get a punch to the face. Kylo has enough self awareness to keep that bit of information to himself.

Force help him, Kylo can _still_ feel her skin jump and move through her clothing as he bent her over his desk. In his mind he can see her chest expand and contract in fear, he can still sense her pulse frantically fluttering as his hands roamed all over her body. 

Shame washes over him in waves. Kylo hopes their next encounter is more verbal and less physical. 

For now. 

One thing remains undeniably clear: whatever the future may hold, they need to destroy the decrepit creatureresiding on Exegol together. Together, they are ferocious and unbeatable.

He has to convince her. 

The mask hisses as Kylo places it over his face, and he stalks back to his quarters to the most precious thing in his life: Rey. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ty for reading 🥰
> 
> any feedback is motivating and deeply appreciated.


	3. Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> oh my goshhh this update took forever. sorry guys! My state is on lockdown. I'm working in the evenings vs. writing fic. Working during the day is tricky with my toddler. I hope you're all healthy and safe during these strange times. If you're one of our essential workers, I appreciate the hard work you're doing.
> 
> Just another reminder this is not a darkfic. Kylo is soft but he has issues. So does Rey. Everyone needs therapy.  
> thx for reading!  
> xoxo
> 
> ______________________

Kylo mentally goes over his plan, as if replaying it over and over will bring forth the outcome he desires. Reluctantly, he concedes that it isn’t _much_ of a plan. Capturing Rey was a stroke of luck, and he is improvising more than he cares to admit. 

This will either go very well, or very badly.

If he can share his encounter with that horrid, rotting corpse through their bond, she might see reason. She might understand why she needs to join him in the fight against the mysterious Sith alchemy taking place in Unknown Regions. She doesn’t yet comprehend that they are a dyad, that the Force has crafted a bond between them that is unbreakable. Together they are invincible. _Yes,_ Kylo thinks, once she comes down from her anger Rey _will_ see reason - she has to. Perhaps one day she can find it within herself to forgive him for capturing her, for frightening her, for his terrible way with words - for everything.

Kylo sighs, knowing that he is denying the truth of their relationship. When it comes to _them,_ every situation devolves into something messy and emotional. Something distinctly _not_ rational. Having her in his presence threatens his image of Supreme Leader, one he works hard to cultivate and maintain. Everything he has been running from faces him when he is with Rey. He displays a _humiliating_ amount of weakness around her. 

Compassion, Snoke once called it.

Kylo silently berates himself for not being able to control his longing for her, and for how deeply he craves her now. This time, he needs to keep his emotions in check. Weakness is a liability he simply cannot afford while he is at the helm of the First Order.

But she makes it difficult. 

Rey’s own jumbled feelings fuel his conflict, his weakness. He senses her anguish, her anger, and above all her hope through their bond. Hope that he isn’t completely lost, and he can’t _believe_ that she has any hope left to spare for him.

Though, his recent treatment of her leaves much to be desired. Self disgust eats away at him, but Kylo is no stranger to self loathing. 

A dreadful feeling of anticipation distracts him from his thoughts, and for good reason. Kylo's hurried pace slows as he rounds the corner and spots the Knights stationed outside of his quarters, dark and brooding. The abyss of darkness churns and swells inside of the Knights as Kylo nears them. They’re restless. The girl they have heard _so_ much about is finally in custody of the First Order. Hux stands a few feet away, scowling. 

Kylo hardly needs to use the Force to know how deeply the general despises the Knights; that he fluctuates between revulsion and terrified admiration towards the warriors.

Kylo’s stomach churns. 

That justification he needs for keeping Rey alive - he needs to think of one _right now._ The First Order expects a swift execution, and he appears to have an eager audience. Hux’s prompt delivery of the Knights to his quarters is a testament to his efficiency as a general.

And perhaps, a bit of showmanship.

Kylo hastily veils his intentions when it comes to Rey. He transforms his true feelings, the ones that haunt him, into nothingness. He replaces them with cold, barely contained rage. Rage to avenge his former Master - and dominance. Through the Force he mentally declares Rey as his, he asserts his claim to her. Nobody has the right to touch what belongs to him. The warning is meant to serve as a reminder to his Knights.

Hux dabs at beads of sweat forming on his forehead as Kylo stops in front of them. Usually this would please Kylo, watching the general squirm. But right now he is too troubled to care. Hux quickly comes back to himself as his trademark sneer tugs at the corners of his mouth. 

“Supreme Leader Ren,” he steps forward in an easy, almost elegant manner, “Well done on apprehending the scavenger. At long last, she will pay for her crimes against the First Order. Shall I make plans for a public execution or -”

“I want a demonstration,” Ushar interrupts, causing Hux to glower in contempt, “Let’s see how powerful Skywalker’s protege _really_ is.”

The rest of the Knights murmur in agreement. 

Kylo holds up a hand, demanding total silence, and opens the door to his quarters. The glaring white color of his room is a shocking contrast to the rest of the ship.The brightness of it was meant to keep him alert, it was meant to keep his mind awake as he tried to map out Rey’s location. Now it just adds to the assault on his senses, and he is glad for his mask. The Knight’s fan out around the room but Hux stares straight ahead, awaiting orders. Dark amusement threads through Kylo as the general quite _obviously_ avoids staring at the Sith artifacts on the long narrow table in the middle of the room. Hux can barely tolerate the First Order’s resources being used to acquire such items. 

Scrolls, copious piles of books, swords, amulets, a shikkar - even a page from an ancient Dathomirian text are laid out for examination. Unfortunately, none of them contain the answers Kylo seeks.

The Knights note Rey’s clothing strewn about the floor and their excitement peaks to a frenzied level. Ushar crouches low to the ground and picks up one of Rey’s white silken wraps and examines it between gloved fingers.

Watching him touch it sends an unexpected rage through Kylo.

“Her imprint in the Force is strong,” Ushar remarks as he stands, still holding it. 

Kylo nods, momentarily distracted from his anger. Rey’s imprint _is_ strong in the Force, it sparks like a burning flame within their bond. Kylo steals a precious second and inhales a slow, indrawn breath. It feels like a missing piece of him has been returned. It feels _good_ . Right. However much Rey might resent their connection, he knows she feels it too - the sweet reunion of their bond. And the Force does not only bridge their minds - he can physically feel Rey’s lungs raking in shallow breaths of air, he feels the tug of binders digging into _his_ skin as _she_ tries to twist the restraints off. 

Every aspect of them is intertwined. If he were sentimental he might use the term _soulmate_ , but to imagine that’s even possible _..._ Kylo shakes his head and discards the idea. He is _not_ sentimental.

He _isn’t._

His relief that they beat as one in the Force is short-lived. His lips tighten as he realizes what this means: the Force suppressant binder is useless. She has full reign of her abilities now, and yet the door to his bedchamber remains shut.

She needs to _stay_ in there - and he needs to keep his present company distracted. 

“General,” he says, “I want two shuttles ready to touch down on Athiss first thing tomorrow. Inform Lieutenant Tavson that his corps should be prepared to encounter anything.”

Hux narrows his eyes, and Kylo reads him easily. Why discuss tomorrow’s planet-fall when the person responsible for Snoke’s assassination, for spiraling the First Order into chaos, is _finally_ in their grasp? To Hux’s credit, he recovers quickly. 

“Very good sir. And - the girl?”

Kylo hesitates for a split second.

“I’m not finished with her yet.”

A wicked fascination clouds around the Knights and Kylo lets them come to their own conclusions. He does not miss the way Trudgen paces in front of the bedchamber like a beast waiting to sink his teeth into its prey.

Hux clears his throat awkwardly, sensing the tension in the air.

“Shall I order a medical droid outfit her with all of the routine vaccines? If you plan on being in close proximity for an extended amount of time, that is. It seems unnecessary to risk catching something from such a feral desert creature,” Hux wrinkles his nose in distaste and mutters, “Or worse, accidentally breeding such a wild thing. Though surely she won’t be permitted to live _that_ long.” 

Hux’s voice has an insinuating quality that hits a nerve. Kylo knows that the general’s last couple sentences are meant to goad him, to test him. Kylo’s hands curl into fists, and he slowly unclenches them. They aren’t remarks the general would say to a Supreme Leader, but to a rival. 

The Knights may be smart, but Hux is clever. Devious. While he doesn’t understand the full extent of Kylo’s connection with Rey, he is perceptive enough to know that Kylo’s relentless pursuit is fueled by a deeper motivation. One he can’t quite put his perfectly poised finger on - yet.

A beat of silence passes between them, and both men study one another with two very different thought processes.

“Those are not current concerns,” Kylo responds in the flat, meaningless tone that he knows infuriates Hux, “Your duty is to carry out the orders I’ve assigned to you. Do I make myself clear, general?” 

“Unquestionably, Supreme Leader.” Hux’s nostrils flare before he inclines his head and slinks away. Kylo’s gaze follows the general as he leaves. Hux is a complication that must be dealt with soon, but right now his Knights pose the immediate threat to Rey. 

“The shadow resides inside of her,” Trudgen grunts, still pacing, “I can sense it.”

It is natural that the Knights are drawn to Rey’s darkness, to her shadow-self. Rey struggles with the dark in the same way Kylo struggles with the light.

Rey wants to believe she is balanced. Kylo knows better. 

“She will be useful on Athiss,” Kylo says, trying to ignore Ushar - who now wanders about the room, picking up Rey’s remaining clothing, “which you will prepare for. Take this,” he summons the Force to send an amulet flying from the table into Trudgen’s hand, “and see if you can’t coax it open. Stock the _Buzzard_ with your most lethal weapons.” 

“The scavenger -”

“I said I wasn’t finished with her yet.” 

Dead silence.

The Knights know better than to wait for another command from Kylo. They know better than to question him. They give him far less snark and attitude than Hux. The six warriors stalk out of his chambers, the clanging of their armor and weapons fading as they leave. Kylo waits until he senses they are far down the outside corridor and removes his mask. 

His relief at the Knight’s absence is short-lived. 

Their ever-living rage simmers beneath the surface, begging for a reason to be released. Protecting Rey on Athiss will be more than a challenge - he will be directly exposing her to the corrupt company of his Knights. 

Some of them want to kill her outright, and some of them want her enveloped by the shadow. They want another Knight. The dynamic amongst his Knights grows complicated if he doesn't keep them on a tight leash. United as the Knights are, they _do_ harbor their own desires. Ap'lek radiates more than a casual interest in Rey, and his curiosity is not entirely perverse. A horrid thought hits Kylo: Rey could _never_ be drawn to one of his Knights. It’s impossible. Isn't it?

He must be intentional with his strategy when it comes to Rey, but he can’t stop red from coloring his vision when he pictures anyone else laying a hand on her. He tosses his mask onto the table.

Inhale, exhale. 

He tries to focus on the present. At last he is _alone_ with Rey.

Kylo punches in a code and his bedroom door opens. His brow creases in puzzlement when he sees the bed is empty, the room eerily quiet. The binders he closed around her wrists lay on the ground. 

“Rey -”

A blur of movement is followed by a dizzying kick under his chin, knocking his head back. Kylo involuntarily bites down on his tongue and a metallic taste fills his mouth. He spits out blood and resets his jaw, when something hard flies through the air and bounces off his chest. 

The Force suppressant binder. 

He should have anticipated this.

Kylo charges forward and seizes Rey before she can knee him in the groin, his fingers digging into her forearms. He stills her but she thrashes in his grip, and he sees the streaks of dried tears on her cheeks.

“You didn’t seriously expect me to sit around and _wait_ for you,” she pants and violently jerks back in an attempt to free herself. This time Kylo doesn’t fight - he lets Rey go, and she bolts down the short staircase, making a mad dash for the narrow table.

Where does she think she can escape to?

Kylo catches a flash of her intentions through their bond: obtain the sword resting on the table behind him. Does she plan on running barefoot through the corridors of his flagship with the ancient blade? He knows she is a survivor, but this is impulsive, even for Rey. She is quick, but Kylo is faster, and he darts in front of her, cutting off her path to the table.

After a moment of deliberation Kylo has an idea. He sweeps his body to the side and motions towards the dark weapon. 

“Go on. Take it. It’s a Sith war sword from Korriban. Does it call to you?” He taunts, and her lips part in surprise. 

Rey recoils, horror spreading across her features. She _wants_ to believe she is above brandishing a weapon forged by darkness.

“Afraid of giving into your dark impulses?” He presses, hitting a nerve. An angry shine springs to her eyes and Rey gives him a look of such fury that Kylo shuts his mouth. 

“What did you do with them?” Her nostrils flare, her tone wound tight.

Kylo knows who she means. The traitors.

“They have been released. I have no use for them now. I have what I want.” He says with an air of arrogance, as if the traitors never held any real interest. He prepares for another onslaught of outrage, for Rey to scream and attack but she just - she _rolls her eyes_ at his proclamation. 

It is a gesture of annoyance, of protestation, but a gesture no one else would dare display in front of him.

“They were returned unharmed to the Resistance,” he says, not sure why he feels the need to make this explicitly clear.

An exhausted weariness falls over Rey. She can sense his honesty and her relief is palpable through their bond. Kylo kept his word, and he hopes that counts for something. 

“We are in the Esstran sector. The -”

“Outer rim territories,” Rey finishes, sounding tired. Her line of sight flickers towards the windows and into the unending vastness of space. Her arms wrap around her waist, and he senses her discomfort, her sudden self awareness of how little she is wearing. Kylo bites his the inside of his cheek to stop from making a snide remark.

White is an impractical color choice for clothing, and it takes a great deal of restraint _not_ to notice how translucent her remaining attire is. He can see the outlines of her undergarments through her clothes and the subtle curves of her body, enticing and available for the taking. He should enjoy the preview, but he finds himself averting his gaze to the floor like an idiot.

“The rest of my clothes. What did you _do_ with them?”

Kylo’s head snaps up, eyes meeting hers. She is painfully underdressed and he remembers how ice-cold his quarters are. Another tactic to keep him alert, but Rey must be freezing. Gooseflesh prickles over her arms, and Kylo clears his throat as he removes his cloak. He offers it to her, suddenly very glad of his decision to forgo security cameras in his quarters. 

Hux would have a field day if he knew.

“Wear this until more suitable clothing is brought.” 

Rey stares at the cloak in disbelief. 

“I’ll wait for you to retrieve my clothes," she repeats, doubling down on the hardness in her voice. 

Kylo's face darkens significantly. “Well they're gone. The Knights have taken your items and you won’t be getting them back. _Cover yourself,_ Rey.” 

And then he forcefully chucks the cloak at her, knowing any attempt to be a gentleman has been ruined. Inevitable, really. Rey deftly steps to the side and the cloak falls to the floor in a messy heap.

“What’s your _problem_?” She shouts at him, her anger overriding any residual fear or insecurity. 

“My problem?” His voice is low enough to pass for a growl, “ _You_ are my problem. You are incapable of setting aside our differences to listen, even when it might benefit you and your - ” he hates to say this next word and spits it out, “ _friends._ ”

It’s the closest he’s ever gotten to calling a truce, but Rey continues to look unimpressed.

“ _Differences_?” She gapes, “You make it sound as if we’re debating a minor difference of opinion. How can you think it’s that simple? You’re occupying half of the galaxy with a fascist regime. Forgive me if I find it hard to trust a man who worships Darth Vader.” 

“So you’d rather fight?” Kylo quirks a brow, fully aware that he is baiting her. One hand rests on the hilt of his lightsaber. 

For a moment Rey doesn’t budge or speak. He observes as she debates something with herself, and then exasperated beyond caution, breaks her silence. 

“Funny,” she says evenly, “That you think tearing off my clothing is conducive to _civil_ conversation.”

Heat creeps up Kylo’s neck. For a moment his impassive expression slips and gives way to something that resembles shame. It is only there for a split-second before he masks it. His fixed stare turns to steel. 

“You’re still clothed.”

“Barely.”

Kylo’s jaw clicks, but he refuses to enter a circular argument with her. Emotional, messy - he was right. This isn’t going at all how he envisioned. 

“After I show you what I saw, you _will_ join me. Give me your hand.” Kylo’s voice is polished and smooth, betraying none of the emotion from a moment ago. He offers an outstretched hand and Rey takes a few small steps back. She is light on her feet as she recalls how he overpowered and disarmed her earlier. It is an experience she would rather not repeat.

And to his immense annoyance, Kylo finds it increasingly difficult to intimidate Rey. To threaten her. Especially when her lovely face is so close, when he could cross the space between them in seconds and touch her.

 _No_ , he thinks, _only if she wants me to._

There are boundaries even he won’t cross when it comes to Rey.

 _Weak_ , a foreign voice slithers inside his mind, _You’re too soft with the scavenger. Be the monster you know you are._

He shuts the voice out.

“Rey,” Kylo raises his voice but doesn’t lose control, “Our bond is strongest when we touch. You know that.” 

Rey sees the look in his eyes and avoids his gaze. But he picks up on the subtle cues that she is curious: the way she picks at her nails, the hard line of her lips pressing together. The muscles in her lithe, strong arms tense and she steadily meets his gaze. 

She’s giving in.

Maybe she feels she doesn’t have a choice, or maybe she wants to get this over with and move on to their next altercation, because there _will_ be another one. Her chest rises and falls with a sigh, and he senses the last of her resolve slip away.

“You have a knack for creating your _own_ problems, you know that?” She mutters, and tentatively places her hand onto his, palm to palm. 

The jolt of their touch sucks the breath from both of their lungs. Kylo gently closes his hand around hers and he watches as she visibly relaxes. The tightness around her jaw is gone and her shoulders drop. The Force reveals the brutal truth through their link, one Kylo isn’t fast enough to hide: he could never bring himself to hurt her. And Rey knows it. She feels it too.

Kylo’s memory seeps effortlessly into her mind.

_Stale air that stinks of blood and death. A hunched figure hidden beneath heavy robes, supported by a bizarre contraption. Cloaked humanoids scurry about the shadowed chamber whispering an ancient language._

Rey’s anxiety begins to climb as the scene unfolds.

_A gravelly voice instructs Kylo to bring Rey to him. He tempts Kylo with offerings of an unbeatable fleet, dark powers, and a new title: Ruler of the Galaxy. Kylo’s red lightsaber blazes fiery red, illuminating the face under the hood and it is monstrous._

_The face belongs to an old man, shriveled and mottled beyond recognition. A shrill cackle leaves the creature’s throat, its tongue licking at decaying lips as it gloats about life beyond death, about the power of the Sith, about being every voice inside Kylo’s head. Darth Vader has never spoken to Kylo Ren, and the creature declares the boy a fool like his grandfather; Anakin Skywalker. It boasts that Skywalker’s sacrifice has been in vain, that in the end the dark side is victorious._

_The creature calls itself Palpatine. Many know him as Sidious. He raises a hand towards Kylo, the bone showing through the tips of his remaining fingers, and he points at the young Supreme Leader’s face._

_Cold hatred coils within the Force, and Palpatine lectures that Kylo would be wise to heed his orders. One way or another the creature will rise to power, and this is the only time Palpatine will extend such a generous offer to Kylo Ren. He only needs to do one thing._

_Bring the girl, and he will gain everything he has ever wanted._

Kylo ends the memory there, and he feels exposed for the fool Palpatine rightly accuses him of being. He’s been worshipping and chasing a ghost. His grandfather has never contacted him, never acknowledged his existence. Long ago he found solace in the voice that claimed to be Vader, who claimed to be the only family that accepted him exactly as he was. That voice is a lie, a phantom, and Rey now knows he is a fraud. His mortification is only superseded by his urge to take revenge on the creature that’s made a mockery of his life. 

“You see why we have to kill it,” Kylo says, voice soft but full of impatience, “It’s been using me, and now it wants to use you. Together we can overpower it - we can end it, Rey. You must sense that I would never do its bidding and -”

He is trying to tell her he would never surrender her to the rotting puppet on Exegol, but Rey isn’t really paying attention. She’s looking past him, her expression faraway. She’s reliving a memory of her own - a painful one.

“ _Rey_.” 

The deep ring of his voice punctures the silence and brings her back. Rey stares at Kylo, biting her lower lip as her face pales. She sucks in a measured breath to keep her voice from shaking. 

“I’ve heard that voice before,” she whispers, forgetting that his hand is still wrapped around hers. 

“Is that right?” There is a sharpness to Kylo’s tone when he responds. Out of all the things he expected her to say, _that_ was not one of them. 

Baffled rage builds inside of him, threatening to explode. Why would the creature ask him to capture Rey, when it has had the ability to contact her the entire time? 

“Yes,” Rey answers, her voice breaking him out of his reverie, “On Starkiller base. The voice it - it wanted me to kill you. It ordered me to strike you down.”

A dull pain throbs behind Kylo’s eyes and he grits his teeth. First the creature wants him dead, and then it promises to give him the galaxy. He feels played, and something about all of this is wrong - _very_ wrong. It is convoluted beyond reason, and anger clouds his vision. 

“And now?” Kylo’s hand slides to her wrist as he yanks her towards him, his grip turning vice-like, “Do you still hear its voice? Have you had visions? Nightmares? What are you hiding from me, Rey?”

“It’s a bit difficult to answer when you insist on breaking my wrist,” she counters hotly, positioning herself to fight against him. Kylo blinks, not realizing how painful his hold on her is, and loosens his grasp. Rey snatches her hand back and before Kylo can stop himself the word comes flying out of his mouth and into the open.

“Sorry. ”

Rey’s brow furrows, her appearance a mixture of surprise and confusion. The expression reminds Kylo of the first time she saw him without his mask.

Perplexed. Curious. Defiant. 

Rey massages her wrist as an awkward hush falls over the room.

The Supreme Leader of the First Order doesn’t give apologies, especially not to the impossibly headstrong woman in front of him. But he has, and now her expression is softening, and maybe this is the right approach. Perhaps he needs to bend a little, compromise -

“I don’t accept your apology,” Rey suddenly declares, firm and unwavering, “Apologizing for a bruised wrist doesn’t change _anything_. It doesn’t change the fact that you’re holding me against my will. And I doubt it’s sincere.”

Kylo briefly closes his eyes to prevent himself from blowing up. He doesn’t know how to approach their arguments with the grace or sensitivity she deserves. When he looks at her again, she appears to be building on her anger.

“You can’t possibly expect me to believe that this isn’t some ploy to bring down the Resistance.”

In one powerful stride Kylo is looming over Rey, his hand braced on the wall behind her. He leans in close, their noses nearly brushing. He speaks through clenched teeth.

“Trust me when I say that if I wanted you dead, it would have happened long ago. Your precious Resistance is nothing more than General Organa’s fanclub. _This_ is bigger than the Resistance or the First Order. Be honest with yourself Rey. You can’t afford to hide under your mental defense of denial.”

That one hits below the belt. He knows better than anyone that denial is her coping mechanism for trauma, for enduring the unimaginable. He once broke through her wall of denial when he screamed the truth about her parents in Snoke’s throne room. 

Rey matches his infuriated stare.

“Give me one reason to believe anything you say.”

She’s still as stubborn as ever.

Kylo’s fist pounds the wall and he pulls away panting heavily, his back turned towards her. If sharing his vision fails to convince her to join him - if she freely admits to hearing the creature's voice before and _still_ will not reason with him on this - what more can he possibly _do_?

His fist smarts from slamming the wall, and it becomes clear what he needs to do: he needs to get his temper under control.

He regroups to approach her again when he senses a presence hovering outside his quarters. A beep sounds through the wall followed by a human voice announcing that they have arrived with the meals he ordered.

From the corner of his eye he catches Rey wiping at her face with the back of her arm, trying to do away with the evidence of fresh tears. His anger fades slightly. She needs to eat, rest, regain her strength. Let his memory sink in.

Mostly - and he hates to admit this - he needs to get out of her face. She needs to see that he isn’t the man he was in Snoke’s throne room. Unbalanced, unhinged, screaming - he isn’t _like_ that any more. Not with her.

He’s done a poor job of demonstrating that so far. 

Kylo opens the door and grants permission for the droid and officer to enter. The droid rolls past him, carrying trays of hot food, meat, fruits, greens, bread, and drink. Nourishment of the highest quality. 

The officer follows from behind and Kylo signals for him to do his job. 

Using a clean utensil for each bite of food, the officer tastes the plentiful dishes. He finishes, and when he doesn’t drop dead after a few minutes Kylo dismisses them both. A droid could accurately detect if poison were present in the food or drink, but then the droid's programming might be tampered with. 

There are certain individuals within the First Order who have a habit of poisoning those who stand in the way of their lofty aspirations. Kylo won’t take any chances. 

He turns to tell Rey that it’s safe to eat, that he’s ordered all of this for her, but finds the spot she was standing in empty. His gaze travels to his bedchamber and the door is shut. He fails to hide his shock through their bond. It is a bold choice to claim his most private area as her own. Aggressive. She’s playing with fire by betting that he won’t impede on her need for solitude. That he won’t interpret her actions as an invitation. 

Of course, she’s right. 

Kylo sighs as he stares at the food on the table. Whatever was left of his appetite is gone. He settles for a thermos of tea and makes his way to his desk. He turns on his datapad and accesses the climate settings. A sip of tea helps some of the tension leave his muscles, and he increases the temperature to a warmer setting, one that quickly has him sweating under his layers of clothing. He hopes it isn’t too hot, but Rey can handle the heat. If she can’t, she can come out and face him like an adult.

It’s a petty thought, but Kylo doesn’t care.

She isn’t going anywhere, and he needs to prepare for Athiss. He sets aside his datapad, peels off his gloves, and sinks into a large chair. He carefully opens an old book describing Sith worlds, and finds the chapter on Athiss. The Sith have never been afraid to explore the full potential of the Force, they’ve never denied the existence of the dark side. The creature on Exegol is unlike anything he has heard of, and if he is to destroy it with Rey they must understand _what_ it is. How it was created.

Infamous for its history of Sith alchemy and dark magic, Athiss is littered with ruins and tombs containing Sith artifacts. Most are cursed - he’s encountered them in the past - but with the aid of his Knight’s they are easily dismantled. Mostly.

Kylo rubs his temples and continues reading, trying not to think about the voices inside his head. The ones that kept him company his entire life. Snoke. Palpatine. Darth Vader. 

The last name lances like a sword through his heart. His grandfather never reached out to guide him. He abandoned him - like everyone else in his family. 

Kylo shakes the thought and unzips his tunic and sheds his undershirt. It _is_ growing too hot, and it impacts his ability to concentrate. He settles back into the chair, props his elbow on the table and studies. He reads for hours until his eyelids grow heavy, and he finds himself unable to stay awake any longer. 

His head fills with thoughts of family, of dreams and wishes, of Rey holding that little baby boy. He aches to go back in time and right every mistake he’s made. 

But how?

And then, thankfully, his sleep turns deep and empty. For a while. 

_________ 

_Pain. Blood. Screaming._

Kylo wakes up with a start. Panic sets his heart racing and something is stuck to the side of his face. A page from his book. He scratches it off and stands, trying to rouse himself.

The screaming hasn’t stopped.

The screaming is _real_ , and it is coming from inside his bedchamber. In a flash his lightsaber is ignited and he bursts into the room, prepared to slaughter whatever is hurting Rey. 

Instead he finds her tangled in his sheets, eyes shut as she flails at an invisible enemy. 

She _has_ been having visions. Nightmares.

“Rey,” he drops his saber to the floor and gently reaches for her shoulder. She jerks away and he hears a small plea leave her lips begging for mercy. It isn’t him she is trying to escape. No. It is _that voice_. 

“Rey,” he shouts, crawling onto the bed, “Rey, you’re asleep. Wake _up_ ,” he shakes her until her eyes pop open. 

Her clothes are soaked through in sweat and her gaze is wild with shock and fear. She takes in her surroundings and realizes where she is - and who is next to her on the mattress.

“Oh,” Rey tries to speak but her teeth chatter together, and she feels hot and cold at the same time. She buries her face in her hands and slumps forward, exhaling a hard, shuddering breath against Kylo.

He acts on instinct, on intuition.

He pulls her close against his chest, his _bare_ chest, and he can feel how soft she is. How warm. She seems to physically shrink as she is dwarfed by the sheer size of him, but Kylo can’t ever remember a time when he thought of her as _small_.

It is her ferocity and willpower that makes her formidable, that makes her larger than life. And her heart, her passion - she’s never cut herself off from _feeling._ It is one thing to open your heart, and another to keep it open and vulnerable.

Even after everything he has put her through, she still allows him the intimacy of seeing her at her most vulnerable. 

Kylo swallows. He desperately hopes this is not a dream. Her tears are hot against his skin and he shuts his eyes, trying to commit the sensation of holding her to memory. 

He waits for her to fight against him, to run, to erect her walls and defenses. He knows she is stubbornly strong like that. But to his surprise, she looks up at him through her lashes, her gaze soft around the edges. And she scoots _closer_ , tucking her head beneath his chin and she doesn't let go.

She _doesn’t_ let go. He wonders if she can feel his heart roaring in his chest.

“Rey,” Kylo’s soft, deep, gentle tone is meant to soothe her, calm her. It is a tone meant to bring her back to the nights they spent talking through the Force when she trusted him. One hand cups her cheek and lifts it gently, stroking the curve of her cheekbone with his thumb. Kylo sucks in a sharp breath, failing to conceal his nervous energy. The right thing - the _smart_ thing to do, would be to ask about the nightmare. About the voice.

Instead, fool that he is, he asks the question that has been gnawing at heart. The one he asked right before he captured her.

“Rey,” he starts again, “Why didn’t you take my hand? You wanted to. Tell me - please.”

The heat between them intensifies as a thick silence fills the dimly lit room. She angles up to look at him, her hazel eyes finding his. She is remembering. He senses her emotions as if they are his own. He feels her blood growing hot, and her cheeks flush. 

Kylo waits, breath bated, the tension inside him threatening to snap. He registers the barest hint of hesitation on her face - and then she buckles. 

“I _did_ want to take your hand,” Rey admits, her voice is watery, breaking with emotion that she is unable to hold back, “Ben’s hand. I never wanted the galaxy. Just you.”

 _Just you_. 

It shakes him to his core.

Kylo is captivated by her honesty and fights to maintain control over his own tidal wave of emotions. His birth name on her lips, her face so close to his, her confession - it is overwhelming. It is _everything._

“Does that answer your question?” She asks quietly, eyes large and wide as she searches his face. Not wanting to break eye-contact, he holds her gaze with his own. Fresh tears trickle down her cheeks while his heart skips a beat.

How to respond? 

_Yes_ is too simple, too short.

Kylo’s mouth is dry— he can barely choke back a swallow. His mind races as he tries to figure out a way to make this surreal moment between them last. He only manages to stare down at her with a mix of full-blown desire and something soft, something undeniably tender and gentle. Kylo knows what he wants and, alarmingly enough, it is what _she_ wants too. At this moment, their bond hides nothing.

Kylo wants Rey, and Rey wants _Ben._

A man with more experience, with more confidence would kiss her right now. She is so close, his entire body burns and tingles. The only sound in the room is her breath leaving her lips, and Kylo wants to _cover_ her in kisses, he wants to show her what he cannot bring himself to say. But Kylo is none of these things - he is not experienced, nor is he confident - not when it comes to women, and especially Rey. 

And to his surprise, he stumbles upon another realization. He doesn’t want their first coupling to be driven by loneliness, by fear or desperation. 

He needs things to be _right_ between them first.

And she must sense that, because her body goes slack in his arms, her breath coming out in tiny puffs against his shoulder. She’s fallen asleep, and somehow this, _this_ right here is more meaningful, more intimate than a kiss. She feels safe enough to drift off curled up in his arms, between his legs, in his _bed._ Trusting that he won’t hurt her, that he won’t take advantage of her vulnerability. 

The gravity of the situation hits him hard. 

This would all be so much simpler if he hadn’t allowed her to capture his heart, if he could commit himself to the dark instead of living this halfway existence. With excruciating slowness, Kylo carefully extracts himself and lays Rey down on the mattress. He runs a hand through his disheveled hair.

For him, this night changes everything. But what of Rey? Will she remember her soft words, the admission she whispered to him? An anxious flame begins to burn in his chest. She cannot admit to wanting him and then deny it - he won't let her.

Kylo pads down the stairs and pulls his undershirt on. He is unable to sleep, and spends the night studying. Reading. Plotting. 

Whatever tomorrow holds, he needs to be ready. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> take care all 💕


End file.
